No One Knows
by Xanthia Oliphant
Summary: They thought she was fine, that she had coped with everything she'd been through. But no one knew Claire Redfield- not really, at least. ONESHOT


**A/N: So, this is the second Oneshot I've posted... expect a few more within the next few days. Again, I welcome any comments- even the bad ones. reviews would be nice but knowing that people actually read my story is enough. I hope you enjoy! **

**Oh, and another thing: Maybe someone would consider coming up with a better pen name for me, instead of the lame one I have? If so, tell me and I will be forever grateful! **

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><p>Claire Redfield was a strong woman, considering what she went through. After the events in Raccoon City, Rockfort Island, and Harvardville she still led a normal life. She even worked for TerraSave, to end bio-terrorism. She had friends, she went out and she had fun. Anyone who passed the fierce Redfield in the street would see a beautiful, strong, and happy woman. They wouldn't see a broken woman, they wouldn't see a woman whose eyes begged for help. They didn't see a woman who didn't know how to be happy, that hadn't had a genuine smile on her face since the last time she'd seen Leon or her brother. This is why no one ever assumed she needed someone. They thought she was fine, that she had coped with everything she'd been through. But no one knew Claire Redfield- not really, at least.<p>

No one knew that the memories of Umbrella's and WilPharma's disasters still plagued her dreams. No one knew that she'd wake up screaming at all hours of the night, a gun pointed at an unseen intruder. No one knew that she still thought about Steve Burnside… they didn't know that she would never truly heal, even if it looked as though she did.

They didn't know this because Claire Redfield didn't let them know. She didn't let her true emotions show to anyone, not even her brother. She had already felt so helpless, so alone, so vulnerable… she couldn't let anyone else see it. She kept her exterior strong and calm while her heart so desperately needed attention. She needed someone to help her, to hold her, to love her. But she was just as stubborn as she was beautiful. She didn't let anyone break her down, she never let anyone into her heart.

She felt completely and utterly alone. She knew there were people who would always say "If you ever need anyone to talk to, you know I'm here." But the words were empty. They didn't mean anything. If she were to call that person up right now, they'd sit there on the other end of the line, with a bored looked on their face. Occasionally they'd "Oh." or "uh-huh." But they would never be able to understand what the words meant. They didn't know what she had gone through, how many people she had seen die. The people that offer her their assistance are nothing but city people, working in their cubicles waiting for the end of the day. They sat safely in their office buildings, never having to experience an outbreak. She imagined the only choices they had to make were what they would to wear to work or what they would eat for dinner. They didn't have to think "Should I save my ammo and use my knife… or should I just run past them for now?" she doubted they had to think about the close calls they had had with death. Perhaps some of them did, but they didn't go through a hell on earth. A shooting seemed like heaven compared to going through a horde of zombies, always wondering if they would die, _when _they would die. But she did, she wasn't the only one though. There was Jill, Chris, Leon, Sherry and even Ada. But they seemed truly and genuinely fine.

But she realized she needed help. She needed someone to listen to her. She was ready to let her guard down and get everything off her chest.

Because she was that strong. She was strong enough to accept the fact that she needed help, now. She was strong enough to realize that once her feelings were out in the open she could truly be happy and truly begin to live. She'd be able to smile and laugh and actually mean it. She missed the warm fuzzy feeling of it, anyway. She picked up her cell-phone and dialed a number that she had so desperately tried to call since she last saw him. The number etched into her brain, she just hoped that it hadn't changed. She pressed talk and held the phone up to her ear listening to the ringing. _One, two, three, four rings. _Then the sound changed and she heard a familiar voice in her ear, and a warm feeling of relief washed over her.

"Kennedy speaking."

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><p><strong>AN: So there ya go. My second story up. I know it may not be that good and there may be some inconsistencies but I tried. I actually wrote this during my AVID class when I was _supposed_ _to be_ doing homework. That means a whole hour and twenty minutes went into this. Though, it may not show. Hoped you liked it. :3**


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